


a word so small

by ienablu



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Fanfiction of Fanfiction, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-12
Updated: 2013-08-12
Packaged: 2017-12-22 19:12:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/916998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ienablu/pseuds/ienablu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Martha is shown a kid's book about the Raggedy Doctor, she goes to find the author.</p>
<p>[Or, Martha during such_height's "only my hands to guide me."]</p>
            </blockquote>





	a word so small

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [only my hands to guide me](https://archiveofourown.org/works/244580) by [such_heights](https://archiveofourown.org/users/such_heights/pseuds/such_heights). 



> There is an blanket permission statement for such_height's work, which is good, because I still can't quite pinpoint what this is -- something between a remix and a fanfic of "only my hands to guide me." Said fic was written post-6.07, which makes a fair bit of it jossed by canon, which then makes this story not-quite canon compliant.
> 
> As well, the "In the middle of the countryside..." bit was quoted from "only my hands to guide me."
> 
> A million thanks to pocky_slash for helping out and fielding questions about kid lit.

Leo calls up two days after Martha visited for Keisha's eighth birthday.

"Martha," he says, dead serious, "you've got to see this."

\- -- -

_In the middle of the countryside stood a big, old, rickety house. A little girl lived in the rickety house, all by herself. But the little girl was never lonely, because she had the most wonderful imaginary friend. The little girl's name was Emily, and her imaginary friend was called the Raggedy Doctor._

"Oh my god," Martha says, breathlessly, staring down at the page.

"Yeah," Leo replies.

It's the Doctor. Even with the child-like style, Martha can tell that the Raggedy Doctor doesn't look like the Doctor she knew -- his jaw is too square, and he's wearing a bow tie and a fez. But at the same time, the blue shirt, the brown pinstripe trousers, the Converse all match the last time she had seen him. It's the Doctor.

She touches his face, and smiles to herself.

"We got it as a gift from Jasmine. The name 'Doctor' kind of stood out, and I asked Tish -- not our Tish, but Jasmine's mum Tish -- and she said she read a book review in the Guardian. She got it for Maddie -- Jasmine's younger sister -- but Jasmine enjoyed it as much as Maddie did, so Tish thought Keisha might like it. And she loves it, it's a pretty fun read."

Martha looks up, and raises an eyebrow. "A fun read for her or for you?"

"Hey, you never really told us all what happened when you two went traveling. Though I'm sure there's more than thirty pages can go through."

Martha hums in reply, and finally flips to the next page. Her heart clenches when she sees the familiar shape of the TARDIS. 

"Is that what it looked like?" Leo asks, careful, but curious.

The next page shows the interior of the TARDIS. It's different. Still bigger on the inside, still the main console in the middle of the room, still breathtaking, but the design is different. There are two levels now, and stairs to even more. The coral columns are gone, and the warm yellow lighting has more of a orange tint to it. "Not for me," she says, softly.

Leo is quiet as she flips through the next the rest of the pages. Emily is a good girl, who goes to school and does all her chores, and at half-past dinner every night, the Raggedy Doctor comes and takes her somewhere in his magical blue box.

"You know who she is?"

Martha shakes her head. "He never mentioned an Emily." She closes the book, and looks at the author's name. "Or an Amy Pond."

\- -- -

Amy Pond lives in Brighton.

Martha reads through the Guardian book review that Leo had mentioned, though it's the fifth item down when she does a search of the book title.

First is Amy's official website -- its design is rudimentary, there are few dropped links, but then she sees that the website is run by a kid Amy used to babysit. He's in uni now, and updates on rare breaks from his busy schedule, which is why Amy runs her blog on a secondary site. It's fairly popular, and she updates nearly daily, talking about everyday life and her creative process, posting cartoons based off comments, and offering and asking for advice on parenting. 

The third result is Amy's Wikipedia page, but the article is a stub (though Martha could help Wikipedia by expanding it), only reiterating the bare basics from her website.

There's an interview with Amy on a popular kid lit blog next, followed by several books reviews, both professional and not.

Amy manages not to talk about herself a lot, which leaves Martha with the most basic background. Amy Pond lives in Brighton with her husband, a busy nurse who she occasionally refers to as "Stupid Face," and their three year old daughter, who served in part as the inspiration for her story.

It's not much, and not as much as Martha needs. Thankfully, she has other channels to go through.

Although she hasn't worked for them in months, Martha still works with UNIT, when she and Mickey need to; which is often enough that there's been a silent agreement to let her keep her security clearance to access the UNIT database. There's no file for Amy Pond. Whether it's because they screened Amy and cleared her completely, or because she just doesn't have the clearance, Martha doesn't know. She guesses the second option.

\- -- -

A week later, the second option is confirmed.

Her and Mickey are in Bristol, hunting down Weevils that escaped from Cardiff. Jack had called and explained the situation to Mickey, who hadn't explained all that much to Martha, except for the bare bones: there's been an uprising of Weevils, Torchwood doesn't have the personnel to combat all of them, and a few escaped Cardiff.

A few turns out to be six, which is a few more than they had planned for. In the end though, outnumbered by Weevils or no, they work well together, and soon find themselves with half a dozen unconscious Weevils with no idea how to transport them back to Cardiff.

They hear footsteps behind them, and they turn in unison to see a UNIT soldier approaching.

"You're here a bit late if you were intending on helping. Unless you want to give us a hand with the clean up," Mickey says, his tone showing how likely he thinks it is.

He shakes his head. "I was actually looking for Dr. Jones."

Martha raises an eyebrow at him.

He salutes her. "Private Angelo, ma'am."

"And why did UNIT send a private to track her down when they have her phone number?"

Angelo ignores what Martha thinks is a very good question, and instead states, "UNIT would like to know the nature of your interest in Amy Pond."

"She traveled with the Doctor. Judging by the fact the Emily and the Raggedy Doctor book was published, and she's working on the sequel, she must have been briefed by UNIT, passed any tests they gave her. Since I still have UNIT clearance, I should be clear to look into her, and contact her if I wish to do so, not that it's any of their business."

"We grew up together," Angelo says, finally. There's a hint of a smile on his face as he continues, "Haven't seen her in a few months, though. Tell her Jeff says hi, when you see her. I think you two will like each other."

"Good to know we've got UNIT's blessing. Does that mean you'll be passing along help in cleaning this situation up?"

Martha gives Mickey a look, and he just gives the barest shrug.

Angelo looks less than thrilled, but he says, "I'll see what we can do."

\- -- -

It's an hour and a half drive to Brighton, and Martha spends the entire drive listening to a collection of podcasts featuring Amy, and wondering what exactly she hopes will happen. She'd like to introduce herself, and have Amy recognize her name, she supposes. She trades stories about traveling with Mickey, and she's traded stories with Jack when he's called her to Cardiff. The idea of a new Doctor -- because he's wearing what she last saw him in, but he has a new face, and she can't imagine any other explanation -- saddens her, somewhat, but more than that, she's curious. She wants stories of this new Doctor, just like how she imagines Amy might want stories of the old Doctor.

As well, she admits she's curious about Amy traveling with the Doctor; with how many times Amy deflects the question of "how much of yourself do you see in Emily?" (usually with the answer of "Well, she's based in part off my daughter, so about half the genetics"), Martha wonders how much of the deflection is due to UNIT briefing her, or Amy just not wanting to talk about it.

Thankfully, for all the things she keeps secret, the fact she spends most of her weekdays at a cafe close to her house is not one of them, and Martha guesses it's her safest bet on finding Amy.

Sure enough, a quick online search shows a cafe just minutes away from Amy's house, and once inside, Martha sees a flash of red hair.

Amy looks exactly like her back-of-the-book author and rare webcam photos: bright red hair, vibrant jewel toned clothing, brilliant smile. The smile is absent, though, and instead Amy has a look of mildly annoyed concentration as she stares down at her table, half-started sketches and crayons fanned out around her. She doesn't seem to notice Martha approaching.

"Excuse me, but are you Amy Pond?" Martha asks, trying to make herself sound uncertain.

She startles, looks up at Martha, and smiles. "I am," she replies.

Martha smiles back. "My niece is a big fan of your work," she says. "She's read through _The Last Star Whale_ a hundred times by now, my brother's said. Can't wait for the next book."

"I'm glad to hear it," Amy says. "What're her favorite parts, if you don't mind me asking?"

"She always says she thinks Emily is brave, and that she wants a friend like her. I hate to bother you, especially when you're working--"

Amy snorts, and gestures to the empty sheet of paper in front of her. "Trust me, you're hardly interrupting."

Martha pulls out her copy of The Last Star Whale. "Would you mind...?"

"I would love to. What's your niece's name?"

"Keisha." Martha spells it out, then waits for Amy to finish her rather lengthy note, before she adds, "And I'm Martha. Martha Jones."

Amy hands back the book. "It's nice to meet you, Martha."

The lack of recognition stings, more than she would hope, but not as bad as she would think. She doesn't want to come out and say she travelled with the Doctor; instead, she offers, "I have some stories about him, if you're interested."

Amy's smile goes even more brilliant than it is in photographs. "I've got enough stories for a lifetime of writing, but I'm so flattered you've come up with your own."

If Amy had been traveling with the Doctor since she was Emily's age, then Martha doesn't doubt Amy would have more than enough stories. "I suppose mine would probably seem outdated anyway. New body, new TARDIS, he probably has a new personality as well."

And then there's a tight grip on her arm.

"I never called it the TARDIS," Amy says, voice low, gaze almost accusing. "Not once. How can you..."

Martha waits.

Amy's eyes go wide, and she stands up abruptly. She sweeps all of her papers and markers into her messenger bag. "Do you have any plans for the rest of the afternoon?"

She shakes her head. But seeing as Amy is on her knees, groping under the table for a lost marker, Martha says, "Not one."

"Good," Amy says, as she rises to her feet, and throws the pen into her bag. Then she throws the bag over her shoulder, and grabs Martha's bicep. Her smile is bordering on predatory as she asks, "How would you like to come to my house for a cuppa?"

\- -- -

 

It's a two minute drive to Amy's house, and it's silent except for a quiet "turn here" and "it'll be on your left."

They arrive at Amy's house. It's a simple two-story house, a bit smaller than the houses around it, but a good size for a three-person family. The lawn is well kept, the welcome mat is well-worn, and the front door is painted a deep shade of blue.

Amy's fire has cooled down, once they enter the house, and now she seems uncertain. She goes to the kitchen, and Martha sits herself down on the couch in the living room.

"I've just never met anyone he's traveled with before," Amy says, setting down a cup of tea in front of Martha. She sits herself down a cushion away from Martha and adds, "Not including the husband, of course."

Martha wraps her hands around the mug. "I knew a few. Including my husband," she adds. "Mickey Smith ring a bell?"

Amy shakes her head. "He never talked about prior companions. And I never asked. I wanted to think--" she cuts herself off, and laughs. "I wanted to think I was the first."

"You may have been, with his new regeneration," Martha says. She doesn't like thinking about this, but she says, "The last time I saw him... I knew it was a last, for him. I couldn't say how, I just knew his time was ending."

"Where are the others now?"

"Mickey's in Cardiff. He's... visiting Jack, who also traveled with the Doctor. Off and on, like Mickey, it was usually us girls that stayed with him the longest. Rose, the girl before me, ended up in a parallel universe. Donna..."

"She didn't die, did she?" Amy asks, sounding alarmed.

Martha shakes her head. "No, she's alive and well. I just saw her, once, after she left the Doctor, and she doesn't seem to remember him. What about you?" she asks, tactlessly changing the subject. "There's you, there's your husband..."

"There's me and my husband," Amy agrees. "Did you ever meet a woman named River?"

Martha shakes her head again.

"She's not the kind of companion you and me were, she just travels with the Doctor when she feels like it, and they keep meeting in the different order." It's Amy's turn to tactlessly change the subject as she asks, "What did he used to look like? Did he always have the..." Amy trails off, waving at her jaw.

Martha laughs, and shakes her head. "No, he had a more rounded jaw. Bigger eyes, bushier eyebrows." She trails off helplessly, aimlessly gesturing in the air.

"Want to draw him? I've got plenty of crayons and paper lying around."

She shakes her head. "I'm a terrible artist. He wore what your Raggedy Doctor does -- all the pinstripe, the Converse. Regular tie, though, not a bow tie."

"He wears a bow tie now. And tweed."

"Tweed?" Martha repeats, and can't help but laugh. "And the fez?"

"Only once." Amy sounds smug as she continues, "We got rid of it rather quickly."

"'We' meaning you and your husband?" she guesses.

"Me and River," Amy says. She gets up, then, and disappears for a minute, before coming back with a stack of construction paper and a box full of crayons. She pushes the coffee table back, and sits on the floor.

Martha slides down next to her, leaning against the couch.

Amy starts creating two piles, putting blank pieces of paper in front of Martha, sketched pieces in front of herself.

"Can I see what you're working on? Your audience isn't just made up of six-year-olds."

"I know," Amy says, smiling, as she continues to sort through the papers. "It's amazing. The Doctor says that, in two hundred years, there's a huge popularity splurge -- people start making their own books. It's its own mini-industries -- writers, drawers, printers. I keep asking him to bring me a copy. He says it's cheating, but I don't think it's cheating if I didn't make it."

"If he ever brings you one, I'd like to see it. _The Last Star Whale_ was difficult to read, but you've really got a knack for this."

"It was difficult to draw," Amy replies. "I had to edit quite a bit down, to keep it kid-friendly."

Martha snorts. "I can imagine."

"It was my first real adventure with him, too," she adds, fondly.

"I met Shakespeare."

"I met Vincent van Gogh," Amy replies, just as smug as Martha was, and she hands over a sheaf of papers.

Scribbled near the top of the first page is _Emily and the Raggedy Doctor meet Vincent van Gogh_. It's gorgeous, the sunflowers and skies a perfect mix of Amy's style and van Gogh's. It's mostly rough sketches, the only finished page is Emily in a red dress, seated surrounded by sunflowers.

"Why Emily?" Martha asks, carefully. "You didn't travel with him as a child, did you?"

"I wanted to," Amy says, voice very quiet. "I really, _really_ wanted to. He crash-landed in my yard. Told me he'd be back in five minutes. I guess when you're a Time Lord, five minutes and twelve years don't feel all that different."

Martha looks up at her, frowning. "I'm sorry," she says, at a loss for anything else.

"It was a long time ago. And it wouldn't make for a very fun story. Instead, after Vincent, I'm trying to decide between _Emily and the Raggedy Doctor Journey to the Centre of the Earth_ , or _Emily and the Raggedy Doctor Visit Venice_." 

Amy starts detailing the stories, sketching out Madam Rosanna's true form to help illustrate the story.

Martha can't draw -- she can sketch metacarpals drawn to scale for class, but drawing has never been her forte. Still, she finds herself picking up a crayon, and attempting to draw her Doctor.

Amy, to her credit, doesn't laugh at Martha's attempt. Instead, she laughs when Martha suggests _Emily and the Raggedy Doctor Get Stranded on a Spaceship_ , or _Emily and the Raggedy Doctor Get Stuck in Traffic_.

"New New New New New New New New New New New New New New New New York sounds like a good setting," Amy says, counting off on her fingers, "but traffic? Really?"

"You met vampires that were actually fish," Martha points out.

Amy just laughs again. She opens her mouth to reply, but she's interrupted by the click of a door opening. "Speaking of stuck in traffic," she says, setting her crayon down. Martha looks up to see Amy's husband walk in, a sleeping child slumped against his chest.

"This is Rory, my Roman husband, and Melody, my baby girl."

"Hullo," Rory says, seeming both surprised to see her, and not being all that surprised at her presence. "Would you mind putting her to bed tonight?"

Amy gets up from the floor, stretching, joints popping. She steps in close, and in a rehearsed movement, takes her daughter into her arms and presses a kiss to Rory's cheek. She murmurs something quiet that Martha can't hear, and then she's padding towards the stairs.

Rory slumps down in a chair.

Martha notices he's wearing a pair of teal scrubs, and remembers that he and Amy only moved to Brighton a few months ago. She fights back a grimace. "Still on the shit shifts?"

He just makes an inarticulate noise in reply.

"How long have you been the new guy?"

"Far longer than I should be," he grouses.

"Dr. Jones," Martha introduces, feeling a growing sense of camaraderie with him.

"Nurse Williams." He pauses to rub his hand over his face, before he says, "I hope this isn't rude, but who exactly are you and how exactly do you know Amy?"

"I'm Martha," she says, "and I used to travel with the Doctor."

Rory looks up at that. "You..."

"Yeah. Not the one you and Amy had, but..."

"Wow," is all he says.

Amy comes back down.

Rory is the one that drags himself to his feet this time. "You do remember that we're going to visit your parents tomorrow morning, right?"

"Of course," Amy replies, in the tone that suggests it may have slipped her mind.

"Good. Martha, it was nice to meet you, and I'm sure we'll be seeing you again soon. And I'm sure you'll understand that I am about ninety seconds away from falling asleep, and so I am going to head up to bed now."

"I understand completely," Martha assures him.

"G'night," Rory says, though it comes out fairly muddled.

Amy starts shuffling the papers into a pile. "I should be following him up soon. I can pull out the sofa, if you'd like."

Martha glances down at her phone. "It's only nine, it's not too late, " she says. "I need to get to Cardiff, and the M4 should be pretty quick this time of night."

"Are you sure?"

Martha stands up, and stretches. "I'm sure," she says, biting back a yawn.

"I can at least walk you to your car," Amy offers.

And even though there's things Martha thinks she should say, it's a quiet walk.

\- -- -

They exchange phone numbers and emails, but Martha doesn't think too much will come of it.

It's a quiet drive to Cardiff. She listens to a mix CD made by Thomas Milligan, all those years ago.

She meets Mickey and Jack at the Hub, and helps defeat an uprising of Weevils.

\- -- -

Jack is courting her and Mickey to join Torchwood, and Mickey is more tempted to take up the offer than she is. He's in Bristol, looking at flats, saying it would put them closer to Cardiff, while still being close enough to help out for the annual London Christmas alien invasion, never mind that they're not quite as annual as they used to be.

Martha doesn't mind in the slightest. She likes London, loves it even, but she thinks she could do with a change of scenery. Her mum will be unhappy with it, like she was unhappy when Martha moved into her first flat, but her mum coped then, and Martha doesn't doubt she will cope now. It's not quite set in stone, but Mickey had texted her about a few flats he was excited about, and Martha's driving out to join him tomorrow.

For tonight, though, she has the flat to herself.

Which translates to her lying on the sofa, in a pair of well-worn jeans and a comfy too-large t-shirt, turning the telly on, and ordering for takeaway.

She's in the kitchen, looking for a clean fork, since her dinner will be arriving any moment, when she hears it.

She recognizes the sound immediately -- knows she will always recognize it immediately.

It dies down, and she recognizes the sound of the doors opening, and closing.

Martha quickly steps out of the kitchen, back into the living room.

She recognizes him from Amy's drawings, but more than that, she sees the Doctor -- _her_ Doctor -- in the eyes, in the way he smiles at her.

They spend a moment staring at each other, before he takes a tentative half step towards her, and then she's launching herself into his arms. "Doctor," she says, squeezing him tightly, hardly believing it.

The Doctor lifts her slightly and twirls her. "Martha Jones," he replies, voice bright, as he pulls back to look at her.

"Doctor, you're wearing tweed."

"You married Mickey."

Martha laughs.

"Where is he?" 

"Bristol. He wants to move out there -- closer to Cardiff, and Torchwood has more jobs for us now than UNIT does. There's a few flats he's found, and wants me to look at. I'm leaving tomorrow morning."

"Martha Jones, alien hunter," he says, a touch of wonder in his voice.

"We don't hunt -- we track down and negotiate," she tells him, earning a proud look from him. She savors it for a moment, then asks, "Amy send you over here?"

The Doctor looks chagrined. "She likes you, though."

"It's mutual," Martha replies. "Who're you traveling with now?"

"No one, really, at the moment. A few one-off trips, every now and then..." He fidgets, for a moment. "You still have the key. What do you say -- one more trip, for old time's sake?"

Her heart breaks at the question, just like the last time he had offered her _one more_. "No. Sorry." She takes a deep breath, steels herself. "It's--"

"Not fair," he concludes, for her. He gives her a lopsided smile. "You're right."

The doorbell rings, then, and Martha doesn't want to walk away from him just yet, but the doorbell is insistent. She tries to get through it as quickly as she can, but she still distantly hears the Doctor re-enter and exit his TARDIS, before she can return into the living room, juggling cartons of food. "I ordered too much," she tells him. "Care to stay for dinner?"

He shakes his head. "I really should be going. Trouble on the Orient Express. Again."

She sets the cartons down on a coffee table, and moves towards him, and hugs him as tight as she can.

"Martha Jones," he whispers into her hair. He murmurs something else, that may be a _thank you_.

And then she watches him go.

\- -- -

She watches telly, which at some point turns into dozing in front of the television. At some point she shuts it off, and makes her way towards the bedroom.

It's not until she flips her bedside lamp on does she notice the book lying next to it -- _Emily and the Raggedy Doctor Visit Old Friends_.

Martha stares at it for a long minute. She props her pillow up against the headboard, and leans herself against that, before pulling the book into her lap.

She flips to the first page, and starts reading:

_It was the week after Emily and the Raggedy Doctor had defeated the Zygons, and Emily entered the magical blue box with a question. "Doctor," she started, "Do you ever get lonely?"_

_The Raggedy Doctor went very quiet, and got a very serious look on his face. Then he started to explain that he was very, very old. And that being very, very old, he had the time to make many wonderful friends._

Martha had never asked about the Doctor's prior companions, and it's fascinating to see them all now. The companions are always in the middle of the page, with the empty space behind them filled in with Autons and Zygons and Daleks and more monsters and aliens than Martha's ever met. There's a small blurb about them at the bottom, with their name, any important nicknames, and a few small facts about them.

The colors become brighter as the companions go on, and then Martha is looking at Rose, and turning the page to see Jack and Mickey next.

Martha's eyes water when she turns to her page. It's been seven years since she traveled with the Doctor, she realizes, looking down at the drawing of herself. Her hair is in its old bun, she's wearing her old maroon leather jacket. Surrounding her are the Judoon, Toclafane, Daleks, Carrionites, the Family of Blood, and all her old memories come flooding back to her.

Martha blinks away the tears, and continues reading. After Martha comes Donna, then River Song, then Amy and then Rory.

The last page is of the Raggedy Doctor with Emily, with them sitting at the doorway of the TARDIS, their feet dangling into space. The text floating beneath them says, _"Yes, Emily, sometimes I do feel lonely. But I know that I am not alone. Not with all the wonderful friends I have."_

Martha closes the book, and reaches for a tissue. And then for her mobile.

"Hello?" Amy asks on the other end of the line. "Martha?"

"Thank you," she says, knowing her voice sounds watery.

"Err, you're welcome," Amy replies. After a moment, she asks, "Are you alright? And what are you thanking me for?"

"Your newest book."

"It hasn't been published yet. Did the Doctor give you a copy? He stole the advanced copy I showed him. It's not too sad, is it?"

"No, it's..." Martha wipes at an eye. "It's perfect."

Amy gives out a sigh of relief. "Good. I was worried about the ending, looking at it from a parent's point of view. Suicide is a heavy topic, especially for a younger audience, but it's what happened to Vincent, and if kids become curious about van Gogh, they're going to ask about him, and it's a part of his legacy."

Martha blinks. "Van Gogh?"

"Vincent van Gogh? From _Emily and the Raggedy Doctor meet Vincent van Gogh_? My newest book?"

"Oh."

"What book did he give you?"

" _Visit Old Friends._ "

Amy is quiet for a long minute. "I pitched the idea to my publishers, just last week, after meeting you. They didn't like it."

Martha shifts her mobile to her shoulder, and flips to the publishing information. "Oh," she says, softly.

"Oh," Amy repeats, following Martha's train of thought. "Could I see it? When you're done with it, I mean. It's not cheating if I didn't make it."

Faintly, she says, "Yeah, I'll drop it off, next time I pass through. I've got to go, now, though."

She hangs up unceremoniously, and dials the Doctor.

It rings three times, before it picks up, and Martha tells him, "One more."


End file.
